


Monster Hunter

by EilidhNiBhan



Category: Final Fantasy VIII, Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EilidhNiBhan/pseuds/EilidhNiBhan
Summary: The New World is recruiting hunters to aid in the Research Commission's expedition and Seifer & Quistis are the latest ambitious duo to hit those storied shores.





	1. Chapter 1

Monster Hunter.

Quistis cursed herself for being too optimistic and letting her guard down. She should have known that something like this would happen. Her whole life had been full of moments like this, elated triumph mixed with the cold slap of burgeoning responsibility, the crushing announcement from her betters that she wasn’t quite done yet and hadn’t really finished and that triumph she felt early was fated to be very short lived as they threatened to rip the rug out from underneath her with some other horrific task or chore. This time proved to be no different, although the sting seemed worse for the simple fact that her triumph on this occasion had been her escape from her old life of bowing and scraping and dancing to someone else’s tune. She glowered across the desk at her one-time commander and the towering figure who smirked over his shoulder. For fuck sake.  
“I expect to hear you both hailed as heroes.” Her commander continued with his ineffectual pep-talk, “The new world is tough and we only send the best. You’ll need your wits about you and all the skills you’ve picked up in the academy to survive, but most of all you’ll need each other. I’m confident you will both thrive out there, so try hard, fight hard, and good hunting.” She threw a salute, but the hunter at the commander’s back only smirked. Fucking A. “Dismissed.”  
“So,” The hunter spoke as they exited the commander’s office, “You’re this year’s prodigy.”  
“And you’re the prodigal son.” She sniped back. His grin widened and he shrugged, the iron gunlance and shield on his back clunking together. He clearly wasn’t bothered by his poor reputation. Again she cursed her bad fortune for being lumped together with someone so… insensitive. A couple of female cadets giggled and whispered to each other as they passed, glancing back at the hunter, who grinned roguishly at them. They went pink and bumped into each other as they tried to walk away, hips swinging excessively as they did.  
Quistis snorted at them, tossed her head and began stalking off in the other direction, towards her quarters to gather her things. The hunter called out behind her as she left “See you on the boat then!”  
She shook her head with a little growl of frustration and stomped a little quicker. Of all the shitty fucking luck - she had to be landed with him… Seifer Almasy; arsehole, womanizer, thrice-failed fleet candidate and the highest scoring hunter in this year’s intake.  
When she saw him again it was on the ship, pulling out of the harbour and her optimistic hope that they might have been able to leave without him were dashed. But, even worse than the fact that he had indeed made it aboard the ship, they were apparently supposed to share a cabin. The level of her disappointment grew to new heights when she let herself into her cabin, only to find him stretched out, topless on the other bunk, his gunlance and a pack propped up against the wall behind what ought to have been her bed. He looked up at her noise of disgust and smirked at her.  
“Well hello beautiful, welcome to my kingdom.”  
“Fuck off, Almasy,” She spat, kicking his pack out of the way and throwing hers down in its place. “This was my cabin first before you managed to shoehorn your way onto this expedition.”  
“Careful there, Trepe,” He said, laying back on the bed with his hands behind his head, his anterior muscles rippling with the motion. “You’re beginning to sound a little bitter.”  
“Oh ho, about what I wonder?” She snapped, throwing herself down on her own bunk. Then snarled at him when he chuckled. “Isn’t there anywhere else you could be? Bullying some underclassmen? Flirting with the other handlers? Convincing the first mate not to throw you over board?”  
“Oh, I was under the impression you wanted that honour for yourself.” He said, grinning, eyes shut.  
“Don’t even tempt me.” She grumbled back, rolling to face the wall and try to get some shut eye. It was going to be a very very long journey.  
A month and a half later they coasted into port at Astera, the towering collection of ships, forges and grimelkine architecture clinging to the rocky face of a secluded cove on the shores of the new world and Quistis was first off the boat and onto dry land. Thank god. She was about to pull her hair out from frustration. They had, thankfully, managed to avoid each other for the majority of the trip. Seifer spend most of his free time on deck, either sparring with a couple of the other hunters, or helping the crew with whatever odd tasks they had to help him pass the time. He was quite good at climbing the rigging and was a dab hand with a mop and bucket. It was uncharacteristic, but gave Quistis some hope that he wasn’t just a lazy layabout with a big cannonry sword apparently loaded with pure ego. For her part, Quistis spent most of her time in the cartographer’s cabin, pouring over old maps drawn up by the previous fleets to visit the new world, familiarising herself with their layout as much as possible and flipping through some recorded reports of particularly grand hunts or memorable battles. There weren’t many, but the more information she soaked up about their potential quarry the better. It was her job as a handler, after all, to know as much as possible about the situation she would be sending her hunter into… Though the idea that he might accidentally not come back one day and she could at last get a night’s sleep without being pestered into the small hours of the morning about her rumoured crush on one of the underclassmen send a shiver of dark pleasure up her spine. Not that she would ever act on that impulse.  
But all of that time locked up in an office full of old scrolls and maps and books did nothing to prepare her for the majesty of the real thing, the way the cold sea breeze turned to fresh, earthy tones and a vaguely feral hum that made her blood sing. Wow. That was quite the effect. It was like… an excited clawing feeling in the back of her head, making her feel restless, giving her a wanderlust she didn’t have in the old world. She grinned. This felt good. Powerful.  
An infernal clanking at her back announced the arrival of her partner and she turned to look at him. He was having the same kind of reaction as her apparently, sniffing the air and cracking his knuckles. He frowned and looked about, pupils constricted, green eyes looking sharp and waspish. She only hoped his restlessness didn’t turn him into even more of an intolerable prick than the monotony of the voyage had.  
A little ginger and white Palico bounded up to the disembarking hunt pairs and beckoned them to follow. It lead them through what could only be described as a marketplace, past the forward command centre - a long table surrounded by chairs and a group of bickered armoured monoliths - up a small flight of stairs and into the sawn off prow of a longboat. This was the entrance to their new quarters apparently, the ‘doorway’ being covered with an old discoloured sail. The space opened up after a few meters to be about 12 foot wide by some 30 foot long and was lined on both sides with hammocks and some trunks. The 6th fleet poured into the space and began eagerly selecting their bunks, handlers and hunters generally choosing beds alongside each other. Palicos padded around under the hammocks, testing out what was intended as their bedding, and then settling themselves down in the soft blankets and wicker baskets that lay beneath the hunter’s hammocks.  
Seifer didn’t have a palico, oddly, so his cat-bed was picked up and tossed aside to make room for his shield and gunlance, which were dropped unceremoniously on the floor. She commented on it before she could stop herself.  
“Bit careless, don’t you think?”  
He glanced over his shoulder at her, busily emptying his pack into the chest that was evidently put aside specifically for him. Spare clothes and extra lance ammunition as well as a few health potions tumbled out to lie in disarray in the chest.  
“Nah, it won’t be there for long, just need to empty this.” He gave the pack one last shake, before slamming the lid of the chest shut and shouldering the empty, sagging pack. He regarded her, “you taking that lot with you?” He indicated her pack, which was still over her shoulder.  
“Taking it with me?” She echoed, looking at the shoulder straps and then back at him. “Where?”  
“Outside?”  
“I don’t think that’s wise.” She said, realising what he meant and folding her arms over her chest. “We’re only just got here and we need to report to the commander first before heading off on our own.”  
He blew a raspberry at her and waved a hand dismissively at her apprehension. “Oh come on, Trepe, you can’t tell me you aren’t itching to get out there and explore.”  
“No, I am itching to get out there and explore,” She said, growing annoyed as he gave her a sceptical look, “But equally I’m in no great hurry to get ourselves killed, or send home again for not following proper procedure and reporting for duty!”  
He rolled his eyes and scoffed at her, but folded his arms nevertheless and stood still. Accepting her rule as law. She took the opportunity to empty her pack into her own trunk next to his and picked up her log book. By the time she had finished unpacking he was tapping his toe impatiently on the wooden floor and huffed a ‘finally’ when she at last turned around and indicated that she was ready. He picked his gunlance off the floor and shouldered it and his shield before leading the way moodily out of the room and out into the blazing sunshine.  
The knawing feeling started back up in her veins as Quistis dragged Seifer over to the command centre and stopped in front of the table. They conversation they had arrived at sounded agitated - “That there is our forward position! We can’t just abandon it!”  
“I’m not saying we should ‘abandon’ it, but we have to think rationally on how to divide our resources while we’re searching for-”  
“What is there to think about?! Without that camp we won’t have anywhere to even put our resources, so you can kiss goodbye to any ideas of looking for your mega-tronic whojimawhatsit altogether!”  
“Friends, friends! We shouldn’t be fighting amongst ourselves, we should be focussing on what is really important and that is the search for the Mitronexica Honoumetorius.”  
“Yes, I understand that, thank you, Professor, but what I’m saying is that it will be impossible to track the damn thing down if we don’t have a forward base of operations and the forest camp was in the perfect position to serve as just that before it was destroyed! It is in our best interests - for our continued survival here in the New World, and for your search for your confounded rat-fish - to go out there and re-secure that position!”  
“Thank you, General, we all understand how important the forest camp is - but we simply don’t have the manpower to go out there and take it back. The last report was that it had been razed to the ground after the initial attack. We need to tread carefully and at the very least find out what attacked it and whether this is something that we can take down easily, or if it’s something that will need more time.”  
“Then I’ll rally a team and-”  
“We don’t have any available man power.”  
“What do you mean we don’t have any man power?! A whole fresh fleet just weighed anchor less than half an hour ago! Astera is practically crawling with fresh recruits begging to get their feet wet!”  
“Untried and untested recruits who need to be properly assessed before they’re sent out on what could be hell’s own mission. Like I said, we need to tread carefully.”  
“We’ll be ‘treading carefully’ until we’re all grey in the beard at the rate we’re going!” The speaker thumped a weathered fist on the table. “We need to act now!”  
“We’ll go.”  
All heads turned to look at Seifer, including Quistis, who just stared at him and swallowed thickly. We.. will?  
“Who are you?” Asked the most agitated of all the commanders. He was dressed in thick leather, faded from the sun and criss-crossed in old battle scars. A couple of medals hung from his breast and marked him as the General. General Caraway to be precise. He had a reputation in the old world for being bad tempered and unforgiving, an old goat with a vast and illustrious history for killing the biggest and baddest monsters there was to offer. At least, that was before he got old and an ill-advised foray into the wastes to vanquish an elder dragon saw him with a broken hip and an 8 month road to recovery. Still, he had been successful, and added another monster tooth to the gory trophy necklace that bristled on his collar. He narrowed his eyes at Seifer as his eyes travelled the length of his body, sniffing in distaste at the bulk of untested muscle and the angry red line that traced between the young hunter’s eyes.  
“Seifer Almasy,” He introduced himself, having the good sense enough to bow his head respectfully to the General as he did. “Hunter, 6th Fleet.”  
Hiding her nerves behind a confident bow of her head Quistis followed suit. “Quistis Trepe, Handler, 6th Fleet.”  
“Ah, Quistis Trepe.” The Professor, a short, withered little thing with long grey hair pulled into a tight bun and big owlish glasses on sat up straighter at the table, regarding Quistis with interest. “We’ve heard a lot about you from the academy. Top of your class they say, a veritable genius and gifted in alchemy I’m given to understand.”  
Quistis nodded. She knew she was good and was used to having a reputation for excellence, but to think that it had even reached the new world ahead of her… Daunting.  
The Professor looked like she was thinking and the rest of the table copied her, rubbing their chins and exchanging calculating glances. Even General Caraway was looking at them both in a slightly less disapproving manner. She shuffled her feet out of nervous habit, but Seifer was confident beside her and met the heavy gazes of the commanders head on. He was clearly used to Quistis’ reputation as well. After some time of chin scratching and beard stroking the Professor spoke up.  
“I say we should let them go.”  
“But they’re children!” General Caraway growled. “They can’t go on their own. Someone with experience should go with them!”  
“But you were saying yourself a moment ago that we should be sending out the new recruits,” The Professor countered, fixing the General with a stoney glare that shelved whatever retorts he had on the tip of his tongue. “We have two able-bodied volunteers right here under our noses, why not let them test their mettle? And anyway, it’s not like we’re asking them to restore the forest camp to its former glory, we only need them to attend the site, look around, gather evidence to bring back to Astera and let the research commission determine the nature of the perpetrator. And,” She cast an eye over the two young recruits who were listening with baited breath, “If they manage to pull it off without bungling the whole thing, maybe they can sink their teeth into something a little bigger next time.”  
Seifer smirked. Something a little bigger sounded quite a lot like something a little more dangerous and he liked the sound of that. Worried that he might get carried away with the glory vision, Quistis stepped forward to try and keep things on the straight and narrow.  
“So, our assignment would be to attend the ruined forest camp, scout around the immediate vicinity for signs of disturbance or tracks, collect biological evidence for assessment by the research commission and return to base camp with our findings and await further orders.”  
“Correct.”  
“May we ask about the completion reward for this assignment?”  
“How does ‘you keep whatever supplies you find in the field’ sound?”  
“Thank you, we would also like access to the forge if that’s acceptable.”  
“It can be arranged.”  
“And better living quarters.”  
“...We will consider it.”  
“And permission to take on individual monster contracts in the ancient forest.”  
“If you survive your first expedition… Then we can discuss monster contracts.”  
Quistis made a show of considering the conditions, although almost all of what she had suggested had been accepted and only the less convenient demands had been stymied. But they had not been rejected outright and all it would take was a little scouting mission to prove their worth… She turned back to the Professor and nodded. “Then we would like to accept the assignment.”  
The Professor smiled, her ancient face wrinkling into something more akin to an overripe peach than a face. Her eyes almost disappeared completely. She turned to the rest of the table. “Any objections?”  
There was a hum around the table as all present shook their heads, including General Caraway, who was leaning over the table with both hands splayed out. When the note of approval had finished its path, he beckoned the two young recruits over to the table proper. A large map was laid out and was adorned with a number of small wooden figurines, some denoting research camps, others points of interest, ore mines and known monster nests and the like. A round red pebble sat over a dense collection of trees.  
“This is the forest camp.” The General said. Seifer and Quistis nodded. “You’ve got monster nests here and here and there’s a Rathalos nesting on the peak over here. Normally it isn’t any trouble for the forest camp because of the dense foliage, but be on your guard. We don’t know what’s been destroying our camps, so you need to keep a look out, especially on the climb up there.” He looked at Quistis, “I don’t care how good a record you have in the academy, this is the real world, not a scientifically controlled test environment. You,” he pointed a finger at her, “Are not to go into that camp. Leave that to your hunter. I want you on the safe side of that line,” He stabbed a finger at the map, where a contour line indicated the brow of a hill. “Find somewhere safe and hunker down.” Then he fixed them both with equally steely looks. “This isn’t a death or glory mission, understand? Under no circumstances are you to engage whatever you find out there. If you find something aggressive, you pack your bags and high tail it out of there. Your reports are no good to me if you’re dead. Understand?”  
“Yessir.” They chorused.  
“Good,” He grumbled, then waved a massive hand at them, “Then get out there and stop wasting time.” Seifer and Quistis nodded, eyes focused, and turned to leave, but the General’s gruff voice called them back a moment, “Oh, and Hunters?” They looked at him. “Welcome to Astera.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, wow, you got your first assignment? That’s so cool!”  
“You must be really strong to be offered an assignment so quickly!”  
“I bet you’re an expert with your gunlance, aren’t you?”  
“Can you show me how it works?”  
Quistis grimaced at the twittering that was going on behind her while she collected what supplies she thought they would need on their expedition and stowed them all neatly away in her pack, leaving as much room as possible for the extra supplies she was determined to pick up out in the field. The sound of Seifer’s bass laughter rang out behind her as the gaggle of handlers giggled and continued to stroke his ego with flirtatious compliments about the size of his gunlance and how envious they were and how they wished he was their hunter. They were touching his arms and smiling at him and he - the self-absorbed, arrogant little showoff - was lapping it all up like a King. Idiot hadn’t even packed a bag for the expedition yet.  
Finished with her own preparations, she stood and turned to the group, addressing Seifer coldly, “Well I’m ready to go, if you can pry yourself away from your adoring fans long enough to pack yourself a bag.”  
He turned to look at her, hefting his gunlance in one hand and giving her a brilliant smile. “Don’t need a bag, got everything I need right here.”  
“I see, what about potions and collection vials for the evidence we’re going to be bringing back?”  
“That’s what you’re for isn’t it?” Came the relaxed reply and a quiet chorus of giggles. Quistis scowled. How lackadaisical. Idiot was going to get them both killed. And probably eaten. With that in mind she went back to her trunk and picked a long chain whip from where she had fixed it to the lid. She gave it an experimental flex, making sure that the sea breeze and salt hadn’t undone any of the protection from the mineral oil worked into the links. She fixed it onto her belt as he gave her a look. “Oh come on, you won’t need that.”  
“We’ll see,” She said coolly, turning on her heel and leaving. He followed her not long afterwards, finding her in the marketplace. To her satisfaction he had his pack over his shoulder, but it looked to be empty.  
They browsed the stalls, picking up extra vials and the odd enhancive pill, tranquilizer and smoke bombs and a pitfall trap. General Caraway had said not to engage their foe, but such items often came in handy when securing an escape, especially in tense situations. The heaviest items went into Seifer’s pack, while the smaller, more delicate items went into Quistis’. A stop at the cartographer’s tent and Quistis had herself a map of the area, which went into her logbook, as well as some hasty notes on the Rathalos - “Just in case”.  
“Alright,” She said, finally satisfied that they were ready to go, “If we set off now we should be able to reach the Northeast camp by midnight. We can get a night’s sleep, a hot meal, and then start our scouting mission.”  
Seifer raised an eyebrow, “By midnight? What are you doing, walking there?”  
“Well, yeah…” She said, trailing off. “How else are we going to get there?”  
“Take a Mernos.”  
She started to sweat at the idea of being carried by one of the miniscule wingdrakes, the expedition’s favoured mode of transportation, shaking her head and her hands in front of her. “Oh no. No, no. I do not fly. Certainly not if I’m being carried by something no bigger than a labrador.”  
“Oh come on,” He smiled, stepping closer to her as she backed away, “It’ll be fine, and so much quicker than hoofing it.”  
“No, I don’t think so, I think we had much better walk. Or better yet, I’ll meet you there!”  
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. That would be against regulation,” He said with an evil grin as she backed up against the rope fence that indicated the edge of the market level. He grabbed her around the waist and pinned her tightly to him while she struggled. “I’ll just have to take you with me.”  
“No, please!” She begged, watching in horror as he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, “I really don’t think this a good idea! I’ll fall! Or I’ll puke! Or we’ll both crash and die horribly!” She could see some winged monstrosity getting closer and Seifer turned to look for it, his arm immovable like concrete around her waist. He reached for the rope that hung low from the beast’s ankles and Quistis shut her eyes, clinging to Seifer’s neck for grim death and feeling the ground disappear from under her feet even as she shrieked - “I don’t like HEIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTS!”

“Bloody hells, woman!” Seifer coughed and choked on all fours on the leafy forest floor, glowering sideways at the stricken blonde laying spread-eagled on the floor beside him, panting, sweating and gripping the earth tightly as she stared up at the blue sky above. “Were you trying to kill me?”  
“Kill you?!” She exploded, fixing him with an icy glare that seemed to freeze his blood in his veins. “Kill you?! You were trying to kill me! I wish I could fucking kill you! Fucking-! Why the fuck did we have to-?! You fucking knew I-! Argh, I’m going to break your fucking neck!”  
He reared back a little when she tried to scramble upright and go for his throat, but the danger was short lived as she collapsed back on the floor again, shaking and pale from the sudden movement. He sat back on his bottom and looked at her for a bit as she groaned quietly and focused on taking deep, calming breaths and stopping her stomach from rolling.  
“Well fuck me, Trepe,” He said when she lay down on her side and curled up, “If it’s that bad why didn’t you say something?”  
“I did say something, you arse.” She hissed. “I told you I hated flying but you ignored me and made me do it anyway!”  
He rolled his eyes and continued to observe her as she lay on the floor. She wouldn’t be much use like that, except for monster bait, but they weren’t out catching things today they were out gathering evidence. Chump work really, but it was better than sitting around at base camp waiting for something interesting and/or heroic to fall in his lap. He only wished he hadn’t been saddled with such a lightweight for a handler.  
He looked around at the camp they were in and the facilities it offered. The Mernos had dropped them right in the middle of the camp, thankfully, and there was a fireplace, a teepee with what looked to be bedrolls and some supply sacks inside, a miniature clay oven surrounded up a load of upturned logs, and a supply crate like the ones that sat in the barrack back at base. Sparing Quistis another exasperated look, Seifer got up to go and check out the sleeping arrangements and supply crate. There were four available bedrolls, but very little floor space and the supply crate was largely empty. There were a few specimen vials and blowgun ammunition, but nothing else.  
He went back to Quistis just as she was picking herself off the floor, looking wobbly and a little green around the gills. She slapped his hands away when he tried to help steady her and glowered. “Stop being stupid,” He said with irritation, gripping the top of her arm more firmly when she tried to shrug him off again, “I’m just going to help you over there and then I’m going to get some reagents because we’ve got jack shit to work with.”  
‘Over there’ turned out to be over to the campfire, which he lit for her before he went. She huddled near it, the gentle warmth helping a little to still the churning. She began to feel a little better after a few minutes and stood up tentatively to inspect the facilities herself. They were alright. Serviceable at least. She pulled open a couple of the packs of supplied in the tent and found some pots of spices, some vegetables, dried meats and a bag of rice. Rightly remembering that neither of them had eaten yet that day she set about stoking the fire in the oven and putting together a simple risotto in one of the earthenware dishes that were available for that purpose.  
By the time Seifer returned, pack laden with goodies he’d harvested from the surrounding area, pleasant, aromatic smells were wafting about the camp. He sniffed appreciatively as he threw the pack on the floor by Quistis’ feet. She was perched on a log stool with her logbook open on her lap, studying the area again.  
“Smells good,” He commented, bending down to peer into the oven at the bubbling pot within. “What is it?”  
“Risotto.” She said, turning a page slowly in her book. “If we had better supplies I could have made something more filling, but all we have is dried meat and pulses.”  
“Eh, I’ll get something later then.” He said, picking up Quistis’ stirring spoon from another log stool and giving the food in the oven a prod.  
She looked across at him. “Stop disturbing it and let it cook.”  
“Don’t nag,” He said, putting the spoon down anyway and sitting back on his haunches to watch the food instead. Unimpressed, Quistis shook her head and then turned to the pack he’d dumped at her feet. She gave it a nudge with a boot.  
“What’s all this then?”  
“Your reagents.”  
“My reagents?”  
“Yeah, I don’t do alchemy.”  
She raised an eyebrow at this. “So what, I’m meant to make all your stuff for you?”  
“That’s why we were partnered, wasn’t it?” He said nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off his dinner for even a moment. “I kill the shit, you patch me up afterwards with whatever lotions and potions you see fit, and we both go home with the glory.”  
She regarded him for another moment, bouncing on his heels impatiently, before snapping her book shut and pulling the bag of reagents closer. “How the fuck did you ever pass your Hunter exam?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I asked you how you passed your exam.” She repeated, pulling out vines of ivy, thunderbugs, various larvae and beetle, a couple of roots which had no purpose, and half a smoked out wasps’ nest. “Every hunter has to be equipped with a minimum of 2 vials of mega potion and a bottle of nutrients to even take the exam and they’re expected to have a damn sight more than that to pass.”  
“There’s nothing in the pass criteria to say you have to be able to mix a potion on the go.” He countered, “And besides, anyone who needs more than 2 health potions to pass that little piss parade doesn’t deserve to qualify for a Hunter.”  
“Oh really?”  
“Really.”  
“Then how come you were rejected from the last three expeditions that set off, hmm?”  
“Too much of a good thing,” He shrugged, “Apparently there wasn’t a handler man enough for the job.”  
“You mean there wasn’t anyone who could put up with your bullshit. What is this?” She asked, holding up a bottle of ants. They were big ones too, all scurrying about and crawling over each other looking for an escape from their conical prison.  
He glanced over. “It’s a bottle of ants.”  
He got a well deserved blank stare in return. “It has no alchemical value.”  
“Eh, maybe not, but it sure is entertaining to let them loose in Dincht’s pillowcase.” He replied, then sniggered, “His scream is even girlier than yours.”  
“I did not scream.”  
“Nope, you did. It was a howler.”  
“I didn’t scream,” She repeated, looking at him. When did she scream? She didn’t even dare to open her mouth, when exactly was she supposed to have been screaming?  
“Yes you did.” He said and then, at her bewildered look, added, “When we took off. You were screaming that you didn’t like… Oh.”  
Yeah. Oh. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, were you going to say that I didn’t like heights?”  
But instead of looking sheepish like he should have done, he just flashed her a grin instead. She felt an angry heat creeping up her cheeks. No humility at all. How she was meant to survive this guy when he had no regard for her feelings, or gastronomical requirements - those being specifically that her feet stayed glued securely to terra firma - she had no idea. With heat burning off her ears she turned her attention back to the pack and took out a few vials and a pestle and mortar from the teepee. A few minutes later and 3 perfect mega potions and 2 antidotes sat in a row before her. Seifer scooped them up and began examining them, as if he had any clue about their quality or purity. Quistis moved over to fish the risotto out of the oven and set it down on a log. She was about to go looking for a couple of bowls to serve into, but Seifer stuck a spoon under her nose instead and told her to dig in.  
“Out of the same dish?” She questioned as he spooned up a lump and began blowing on it.  
“Less washing up for you.” He said.  
“Less washing up for you, you mean.” She said, pulling a stool over and digging her spoon in. “One cooks the other washes up.”  
“One cooks, the other goes hunting.” She looked at him. He looked back. “What?”  
“I’m not going to be your wet nurse and your mother, Seifer.” She said firmly, “I’m meant to be your handler and, like it or not, that means that you are my hunter. We’re a team. You’re meant to help me as much as I’m meant to help you. I don’t mind cooking your food and mixing your potions, but you have to pull your weight too, you can’t just leave me to do all the dirty jobs.”  
He scowled. “I’m going to be putting my life on the line out there to bring back glory, to your name, and you think that’s not pulling my weight?”  
“That’s not what I meant,” She said, treading carefully. He obviously hadn’t ever had a partner before and if he made up his mind now that he hated it then this little arrangement would be over before it even really began. But that didn’t mean she was going to let him walk all over her either. “I know you’re going to be doing the really dangerous work, Seifer, and I’m grateful to you, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t need your help in other things too.”  
“With the washing up.”  
“With little things that make this partnership work.” She flicked a hand between them to indicate their partnership. “I’m not trying to make you feel like I don’t appreciate your part in this, but I don’t really want to be relegated to dish-duty either just because I ‘don’t have anything better to be doing’. I’m just asking you to clean one dish.”  
“What are you going to do while I’m cleaning the dishes?” He asked, wary, but not hostile to the idea.  
“Making more potions for you.”  
“And while I’m hunting?”  
“I can gather reagents. If you had a palico with you it could bring the potions to you in the field when they were ready.”  
“Mm,” He hummed, digging into his dinner again now the dangerous topic had passed. “Don’t have a palico though. You’ll just have to bring them to me yourself.”  
“Ok…. But I’m not getting in the middle of a firefight just to bring you a might pill or some shit like that.”  
“Heh, fine.”  
They finished off their dinner with minimal palaver and Seifer dutifully wandered off to find some fresh water to clean the still warm dish in. Quistis busied herself with the pestle and mortar again. By the time he returned the light was starting to fade and the firelight was throwing long shadows around the campsite. Quistis stood up when Seifer entered. She brushed her hands off on her skirt.  
“Are you ready?”  
“Yeah,” He nodded, dumping the clean dish back in the teepee and grabbed his gunlance and shield, throwing them over his shoulder and securing the straps over his chest. He wore leather armour, which at first Quistis had been surprised about because shield users tended to be accompanied by heavy armour, but watching him ducking lithely under the bushes and through the vines that concealed the entrance to the camp she thought she understood. He valued mobility above pure defence, and trusted the strength of his sword arm more than health in a bottle. She understood that too. If a battle went on for long enough then it didn’t matter how many potions you had with you, or how quickly you could make them on the fly, your mark still wasn’t dead and you would be running out of focus.  
They moved quietly along through the treetops, using the branches of the ginormous ancient tree that dominated the area as walkways, swinging across gaps on vines, or simply leaping if they could. Largely in silence, they walked carefully in the direction of the ruined forest camp, going ever upwards in their search, Seifer pointing out tracks and monster material as they went, Quistis noting them in her logbook. Eventually, on a dark earthy slope that clung to the inner branches of the ancient tree they had been climbing, dimly illuminated by some fireflies and patches of glowing mushrooms on the floor and walls, Seifer turned to her and indicated with his hand for her to stay put. Without question she signed back to him, ‘When should I return to camp?’  
‘I’ll be back in 15 minutes. If I’m not, go back.’  
‘Ok. Take this.’  
She handed him a couple of specimen vials, a mega potion, an antidote and a bottle of nutrients, which he drank immediately. ‘Weird,’ he signed, ‘It doesn’t taste like shit. Doesn’t taste like anything.’  
‘It’s not supposed to taste like anything. If it tastes like shit then it’s wrong.’  
‘Noted.’  
He stayed around long enough watch her ducking under the leaves and branches of a broad-leafed hurricane plant, before slinking away into the darkness with barely a clank or rustle to betray his presence.

Even though they had been given a brief description of the camp’s locale, Seifer was taken aback by the level of destruction that greeted him when he crested the hill that General Caraway had indicated was Quistis’ safety line. Technically the camp was still a number of meters off, outside of the hollow bough in which he currently stood, but whatever had destroyed it had clearly begun its rampage here. Old ash coated the floor at his feet, mixed liberally with the crumbling shells of heat-desiccated leaves brought down from the foliage with the rush of hot air from the blaze. Conscious of leaving prints in the soft ash, Seifer padded around it, staying as close to the wall of the bough as he could. The entrance to the camp was a hole bored through the ancient wood. It lead to the outer branches of the upper foliage of the ancient tree, which were thinner and springier than the older, thicker branches that made up the bulk of the monolithic structure. They encircled the tree like wispy vines, made to look thin and flimsy beside the main structure, though each branch was easily as thick around as Seifer was around the middle. The sides of the entryway were adorned with deep gouges, some singed and some fresh. Well, fresh-ish.  
Seifer looked about for any debris like fur, or claw fragments, or any discernible footprints among the ash, but the ground was so torn up that nothing useful could be gleaned from it. He picked a slither of something black and bendy out of one of the gouges and popped it in a vial, then ducked through the borehole and out onto the snub of wood that extended beyond. It wasn’t very long, or wide. He looked about. Whatever had attacked had been a fire-breather and had blow a jet of flame directly through the hole. What remained now was like a winter wonderland. Ash fell serenely through the air when it was disturbed by the wind and coated almost every surface like a fine snow. In the distance the skeletal remains of a teepee stood alone. Seifer looked about for any way of bridging the gap between his wooden ledge and the one opposite, some 4 meters away. Looking up he saw the spindly remains of a vine hanging fragile in the air, baked hard by the flames of the creature and now totally useless. He rubbed a hand over his chin in thought. If the conventional way to get across was to swing then it was unlikely there would be another way in. Although… Most camps had an escape route lined up in case of emergencies. But on the other hand this was the way that General Caraway had indicated they should go, so…  
Taking his grappling hook from his belt, Seifer fit it to the launcher strapped to his arm and pointed it at the distant canopy. The grapple-line was only about 30 meters and he had no clue how far away the ceiling was in the dark, but he didn’t have any other plans, besides a tightrope walk and he didn’t fancy one of those. The first grapple attempt failed, hitting off the branches above and bringing a shower of ash down on Seifer’s head. The second attempt seemed to work, but as soon as he put any weight on it it dislodged with a disappointing clatter and another shower of ash. The third attempt was much better and didn’t seem like to fall off when Seifer hauled back on it. There was some creaking and groaning from up high, but nothing came down, no grapple at least. Trying not to think about the long drop and predictably squishy end he should meet if this failed, Seifer tightened his grip on the grapple line and swung out.  
He landed heavily on the burnt wood on the other side of the gap and slipped slightly in the shiny carbon, but righted himself quickly.  
“Piece of cake.” He muttered to himself, chuckling quietly. He would leave the grapple where it was for his return journey, so disconnected the line from his launcher and let it hang.  
The camp, when he reached it, hardly looked like a camp at all. Sure, the shell of the teepee still stood, but everything else that ought to have marked the place out as an expedition camp was gone. The camp would once had stood on a circular knot, like a woven tangle of vines and branches that made a surprisingly sturdy plateau and should have had the same amenities available as the northeast camp that he and Quistis had landed in earlier that day, however all of this was missing. The blackened, charred remains of the teepee hung suspended over a black abyss, the convenient tangle of leaves and branches which had made up the camp floor having been clawed apart, the boughs straightened out and hanging like taffy some 8 or 9 foot below where they should be. A thick branch had once grown around the camp like a wall and now Seifer clung to it for support as he leant out over the darkness. He thought he saw the camp’s supply crate cradled by the other side of the ruined floor. Miraculously it looked untouched.  
Conscious of the time, Seifer turned away from the scene and swung back across the gap to the borehole and snuck back through it. He hurried quietly back to where he had left Quistis and stuck a hand into the plant she had been hiding in. He was greeted with a startled gasp and had his hand slapped away, but it was a relief nonetheless that she was still there and hadn’t given him up for dead. She emerged from the bush glowering and clutching her breast protectively. Oops.  
He shrugged and signed, ‘Accident. Nothing to write home about anyway.’  
Fishing the vial with the sliver out of his pocket as her glare intensified he held it up for her and signed, ‘This is all I have so far. Everything up there is burnt to fuck and the camp doesn’t even exist anymore, just a burnt tent and a long drop.’  
Putting aside the inadvertent fondling for now she took the vial from him and turned it over in her hands. When she looked up again he continued, ‘The supply crate is still good, but I can’t get to it.’  
‘Where is it?’  
‘Off the side, dangling.’  
She looked thoughtful, putting her finger and thumb to her chin in such an exaggerated motion so that Seifer wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t just putting it on. After a half a minute or so of this she looked at him again and shook her head. ‘Our mission objective is to scout the area, obtain evidence of monster activity and report back to base. It mentioned nothing about salvaging supplies.’  
‘But those supplies could be valuable.’  
‘Or they could be worthless, like ours. It’s not worth risking your life over a box of old needleberries.’  
He protested, but she signed over him. He wasn’t as good with signing as she apparently was, so had to stop what he was saying to read hers. ‘It’s nothing we can’t collect again. It’s not worth it. Just find monster material, or tracks. Where there any tracks?’  
‘No.’  
‘Where did you get this?’  
‘The wall.’  
‘Did you find anything in the camp?’  
‘No.’  
‘Why are you getting grumpy with me?’  
‘I’m not.’  
‘Yes you are, why the short answers if you’re not?’  
‘I want to get those supplies.’  
‘I want to complete the mission.’  
‘We can get the supplies and complete the mission. There might be something in the supplies that can tell us-’  
‘Like what? A letter to tell us whodunit? Don’t be ridiculous, there’s nothing in that chest that can tell us anything we can’t get from the surrounding area. Instead of wasting time going fishing for broken supply boxes we should be focusing on the task at hand and getting it done in a professional manner.’  
‘...’  
‘Are you listening?’  
‘...’  
She poked him in the chest and brought his wandering gaze back to her. ‘Were you listening?’ she asked again.  
‘Shh.’  
‘What do you mean “shh”? We’re using sign language, it’s silent.’  
‘Shut up and get in the bush.’  
‘Wha-’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence however because the next moment Seifer had grabbed her by the shoulders and forced both of them down into the broad-leaf plant she had been hiding in before. Indignant she made to protest but before she could he clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking his head slowly. Just then, as if summoned by their disappearance from view, there was a groan from further down the bough and the ground beneath their feet seemed to flex. Something with enormous weight had just joined them in their tunnel.


	3. Chapter 3

Blood thrummed in Seifer’s ears as he crouched motionless in the shrubbery with Quistis and the wood under their feet creaked and groaned in complaint as whatever it was crept up the tunnel towards them. Luckily for Seifer, or unluckily depending on how one looked at it, he was facing down the slope and had a clear view between the leaves of the bush to see what might be coming. He waited with baited breath, but Quistis had begun to shake. He spared a look at her and saw her staring back at him, wide-eyed and unblinking, like a rabbit in a hole. Her lips trembled beneath his fingers and he suddenly felt a twinge of fear for her. He had taken his field exam three times before the regs eventually conceded that he was not your average joe and while his methods of destruction might be a little unconventional, he was a damn sight better at killing monsters than any of the clowns the academy had churned out before. But as a handler Quistis would not have been expected to involve herself in any sort of combat before her graduation and this was likely to be her first contact with a real monster. He’d be lucky if she didn’t piss herself and give away their position.

He peered back out between the leaves of the plant and had to stop himself from sucking in a breath at what he could see. It wouldn’t do to startle the girl and begin the show just yet. At the bend at the end of their tunnel, a snout had appeared. It was scaly and blunt, with slits for nostrils and beneath these a fearsome array of glittering teeth. Oh, he knew what that was already and it was not good. He snuck another look at Quistis, who was watching his face carefully. Uh. In the absence of anything more helpful, he gave her a blank look. And accidentally blinked. This was evidently all the confirmation Quistis needed that whatever was coming up behind her was something truly nightmarish. She blinked back a sudden wave of tears and Seifer felt her tongue dart out against his fingers and lick her lips.

He looked back down the tunnel as a glowing pair of orange eyes rounded the corner and the monster gave one, long sniff. He looked back at Quistis to find that she had screwed her eyes shut and was just crouched there shivering. He contemplated telling her what it was that had found them because he couldn’t personally thinking of anything worse than sitting in a dark tunnel, unarmed, with his back to the enemy and knowing it would reach him and find him and eat him and still not knowing anything about it or having any chance to begin to form a plan of action... He stroked her cheek instead. She opened her eyes at the motion and looked at him. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and mouthed ‘it’s not that bad’. It was, but she didn’t have to know that. 

She reached up slowly and pulled his hand from her lips and mouthed back ‘What is it?’

‘Not sure’ he lied, ‘big.’

She breathed out slowly, seeming to relax a little, but then instantly froze again as a low growl reverberated up the passage towards them, the air it brought with it rustling the leaves of their bush as it passed.

‘Shh’ Seifer mouthed at her, but she didn’t dare make a sound. A heavy footstep said the creature was on the move again and it climbed slowly up the tunnel towards them, the springy wood bouncing Seifer and Quistis up and down with the creature’s movement. Seifer cursed in his head. It was only a matter of time before his weaponry started clanking and then the jig really would be up. He met Quistis’ eyes again and signed very carefully, ‘If it finds us, run. I’ll buy you time.’

To his surprise she frowned. Then shook her head. He looked back at the approaching goliath which was by now only a few giant steps away, then back at Quistis, who signed quickly, ‘No. Do not engage.’

He swore internally again and signed, ‘You’ll never make it.’

She shook her head again and said nothing, but crooked all four fingers of one hand in a clear message. ‘Come with me.’

He shook his head at her and looked back out at the creature, but by now it was on top of them, the gigantic head with the glowing eyes and the dripping jaws hanging low over the shrub in which they hid. They had no more time to sit about playing tug of war, it was now or never for both of their plans.

Gritting his teeth and stifling another curse, Seifer grabbed a fistful of Quistis’ bilaud and dove from their hiding place, pulling her with him as he lunged forwards down the tunnel and in the direction of escape. Hearing the commotion of their departure and the metal ring of Seifer’s gunlance clattering off his shield, the creature tried to turn around, but the tunnel was thankfully rather narrow and it struggled. Sliding beneath the enormous muscled tail that thrashed the tunnel floor as the beast struggled, Seifer leapt to his feet and into a run, Quistis staggering along behind him. They dashed out of the tunnel and Seifer threw them both immediately to the right where they tumbled down a steep hill and through the thick, leafy vegetation that covered the slope. At some point in their fall Seifer had lost his grip on Quistis, but was relieved to find her on her feet even quicker than he had managed to scramble to his. Grabbing her hand this time he pulled them both through the dense forest that fringed the coast, adrenaline pressing him on even as the creature’s roar echoed through the night air at their backs.

They didn’t stop running until they reached the coast and Seifer let them both stumble to a halt and bent double, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Quistis was on her hands and knees in the surf sucking down ragged breaths and shivering like a leaf on a high wind. Seifer looked down at her and then back over his shoulder at the treeline 100 meters away. Nothing. He forced his breathing into something less noisy and strained his ears. Nothing. Just the lap of the waves on the white beach and Quistis’ harried breathing. He looked back at her again to find her looking up. He offered her a hand, which she gratefully accepted.

“You alright?” He asked when they were back on their feet and could both breathe semi-normally.

“That was-” She paused for breath.

“An anjanath.” He finished. She nodded, looking warily at the treeline.

“The reports didn’t say anything about an anjanath in the area.” She said. Indeed they had not, and they should have done if the creature’s presence was already known. Anjanath were a kind of fire-breathing dinosaur, extremely aggressive and very territorial. They were extremely dangerous and were renowned for claiming the lives of unwary hunters - for being such large and ungraceful looking creatures, they could move incredibly quietly and had even been known to hunt - and kill - on open ground. If there was one in the area then Command in Astera would want to know about it. The purple and pink monster was absolutely not to be underestimated.

Evidently reading Seifer’s thoughts Quistis said, “We should get back to base, let them know what we found.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, then asked, “Do you still have that vial?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, pulling the vial out of the little pouch that hung from the strap of her log book, which was slung over her shoulder like a satchel. She turned to him, one hand on her hip, lips pink, looking flushed, “I think we need to go back to camp though, to get our stuff.”

He nodded. Sure. Stuff. What? “What?”

“Our stuff.” She repeated, then frowned at him. “Did you get hit in the head or something?”

“What? No!” He bit off, turning away and stomping off back up the beach in a vaguely northeasterly direction. He gave himself a mental shake as they went back up the beach, Quistis following along behind, regarding him suspiciously. So her hair had fallen out of its clip and was looking suggestively messy from their tumble down the hill… So she was pretty, looking flushed and exhilarated… So what? There were plenty of very pretty handler’s back at the base, like that Heartily chick, she was hot and would probably go for him - it definitely wouldn’t do to start getting mushy over Quistis, soft pink lips and bright blue eyes or not. She had a stick up her arse and a chip on her shoulder about even being with him. And the woman carried a whip for Hyne’s sake! What sort of a woman carried a bloody whip? The kind who liked to be in control. The thought brought colour to his cheeks and a heat to his groin that made it difficult to concentrate. Adrenaline. That’s right, he was going to blame the adrenaline.

They traversed the forest in silence, stopping occasionally for observation purposes or to collect an odd reagent, but eventually they made it back to camp. Seifer suggested they bunk down and get some kip, but Quistis refused.

“I’m not hanging about all night in some flimsy tent, lying about like a box of matches just waiting for some fire-breathing devil to drop out of the sky and light us up.”

And that was that.

When they arrived back at Astera the place was alive in furious activity. People rushed hither and thither with boxes and sacks of this and that and everywhere Quistis and Seifer looked hunters and handlers from the 6th fleet were dashing back and forth with excited looks, holding up pieces of parchment stamped with the research commission’s blue seal, or the contract hunter’s red one. Evidently the rest of the 6th had taken yesterday to relax and today was the day that they accepted their first assignments. Seifer felt a swell of pride at the idea that while the others were still milling about preparing for their first foray into the unknown he was already returning from his, victorious.

Quistis wanted to stop off at the Research Commission and drop off the specimen they had collected, so they went there first. The Research Commission occupied almost the entire first tier of Astera, and it seemed, most of the docks. Books stacked in piles three meters high and 2 meters wide sat in the shelter of an upturned ship, beside which sat a pond surrounded by loose soil and the sprigs of baby plants, the first fleshy shoots of mushroom colonies and trellises heavy with creeping vines of every colour Seifer could imagine. The gentle hum of tiny wings gave the place an eternally busy feel, even if the tables upon tables laden with bunsen burners, phials and beakers did not. 

The officers of the commission seemed surprised when Quistis explained where they had got the sliver in the vial and exchanged apprehensive looks, but agreed to test it for them and find out what manner of beast it belonged to. With this task completed Quistis and Seifer headed off to the Command Centre to make their report.

All heads present turned at their approach and General Caraway barked “Haven’t you left yet?”

“Yes, we have.” Quistis replied, stepping up to the table. “We inspected the campsite and brought back a specimen for examination.”

“That needs to go to the Research Commission then.” Said the Professor.

“Already done,” Said Quistis, earning a circle of appreciative glances. “We dropped it off when we returned this morning. They said it would take a few hours to get a result from it and then we can find out what attacked the camp.”

“Where did you get it?” The General asked, eyes narrowed in skepticism.

“I pulled it out of a gouge in the Ancient Tree.” Seifer said in a casual tone, folding his arms over his chest and adopting a comfortable position. “The entrance to the camp was completely destroyed, burnt to a crisp. There wasn’t a single useful thing in sight, that was all I could find. It looks like a piece of claw to me.”

“And what of the camp, did you inspect that as well?” Asked another Commander waspishly. He was short and wizen like the professor, but not in a kindly looking way.

“Yeah, I inspected it.” Seifer replied, fixing the little man with a glare to say he didn’t appreciate the tone. “Not that there’s anything left to inspect, half of it’s been ripped off the side of the tree completely and the rest of it’s been burnt to a crisp. Nothing to even stand on let alone examine.”

A murmur of discussion ran around the table before the General spoke again, tone probing. “You say there was nothing left of the camp at all?”

“There was a burnt old tent that wouldn’t have held its own shape in a vacuum let alone a gale, and a supply crate a couple of feet below, over the side.”

“Did you bring it back?”

“Couldn’t reach it” Seifer shrugged, watching the looks run around the table again before letting the hammer drop. “And we were interrupted by an Anjanath.”

“An Anjanath?!” The Professor repeated, standing up on her seat even as squeaks and gasps of surprise erupted from her colleagues. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure,” Seifer said, jutting his chin out and looking down his nose, “Big, ugly fire-breathing thing with a webbed spine and evil glowing eyes; bright pink; silly little arms; Anjanath.”

“I told you not to engage.” General Caraway growled.

Quistis spoke again, “We didn’t! We tried to hide until it had gone but in the end we had to run for it.” 

There was a hushed silence for a moment before the Professor said slowly, as though in disbelief, “And… You survived? But that thing has a top speed of 45 miles an hour!”

Seifer beat down an urge to check his own pulse sarcastically, managing somehow to simply nod instead. Quistis clasped her hands in front of her, doing her very best impression of butter that wouldn’t melt. “We thought we should let you know, since it wasn’t mentioned in the report.”

Ah yes, the report. That little treasure trove of information that had been painstakingly gathered by the Expeditions then brightest and best and which proved to be totally useless in the face of their discoveries. The Command Centre had enough humility about them to look ashamed at Quistis’ statement. Clearing his throat the General said, “Yes, well, well done Hunters for this valuable information. I suggest you retire to your quarters for a rest and some sustenance before we need to call you up again. Dismissed.”

They saluted and then left. As soon as they were out of earshot Seifer burst into laughter. “Did you see their faces?” He crowed, slapping his thigh as they walked back to the barracks, making a few of the 6th turn their heads to watch as they passed. “They had no idea what hit them! ‘An Anjanath? Are you sure?’” He imitated the Professor’s high feminine voice almost perfectly. “As if I could mistake one of those! That’s not your average pet lizard for Hyne’s sake! It’s a bloody dinosaur!”

Beside him, Quistis smiled. She was also enjoying the memory of the Command Centre’s reaction though not for the same reasons as Seifer. While he seemed to be mostly amused by the discomfort of the people standing around the table, she was enjoying the approving nods they had given and the light of somewhat surprised respect that had arisen in their faces. Her reputation preceded her, but it was well deserved and didn’t this just prove it? Oh ho, yes.

Once they reached the barracks they parted ways, Quistis to a much longed-for bath and Seifer to the training grounds, muttering something about clanking and increased mobility.

When they were called up again by the Command Centre it was just getting dark. The scientists of the Research Commission had finished testing the sliver Seifer and Quistis had collected some hours ago, but had waited until now to give the pair adequate time for a nap and a change of clothes before making their announcement. With everyone in attendance, the Professor stood on her chair and said, to no one’s surprise, “It’s an Anjanath.”

Seifer rolled his eyes and gave Quistis a playful nudge. She settled for giving him a look instead.

“Alright,” Said General Caraway, focussing everyone’s attention. “Let’s get a team together and go and kill it, and then we can all get back to what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“The Mitronexica Honoumetorius.” The Professor clarified.

“Yes, that confounded fish-rat.”

“It’s a unique occurrence,” The Professor defended the hapless fish-rat, “The sort of thing that happens naturally once in a lifetime - my lifetime I’ll hasten to add, not your depressingly short, fast paced existences.”

Seifer and Quistis exchanged a look. Clearly there was some unresolved tension between the General and the Professor which, judging by the blistering stares they were now levelling at each other, went beyond the imagined devilry of the unfortunate fish-rat.

“That is enough, thank you.” Came a calming voice. A nearly spherical man with a severely receding hairline and a greying beard stood up at the other end of the table and addressed them all. “Our first priority is the capture or death of the Anjanath and the security of our camps. To that end we must supply these two of the 6th with all of the information they require to defeat their foe and not to repeat the same mistake as last time by sending them off with inadequate preparation for their mission.”

A round of nods and the table was in agreement. They started drawing up their plan. “The Anjanath has weaknesses in water and ice elemental attacks, so we will need to check our supplies of these and pair Trelmasy up with someone specialising in ranged elemental attacks.”

“Put them with Kilmitt then, they’re blowgun users. Jin should be back from their hunt at some point and can go with them. That’s your ranged and support covered.”

“Leonheart can serve as the other melee-”

“Nope. Thanks.”

The commanders turned to look at Seifer, who was shaking his head emphatically.

“Why not?” The Professor asked, “We’ve heard good things about his work and he’s a natural with a gunlance.”

“We don’t get along.” Was Seifer’s only response. Quistis examined the side of his face, which was arranged impassively enough for someone with such a deep hatred for his proposed teammate. It was true that they did not get along. In fact, the thick scar that ran between Seifer’s eyes was product of one testosterone fuelled run-in with his longtime rival that almost cost them both their Hunt exam. Leonheart had a scar to match. It probably wasn’t a good idea to put them both on the same hunt.

“Perhaps an older Hunter would be able to provide us with more experience in the field.” She suggested, drawing attention away from Seifer’s flexing jaw and agitated glower. “One of the 4th fleet, or a fiver who’s fought an Anjanath before.”

The Command Centre scratched their beards and there was some muttering before the General said gruffly, “You can have Yang. She’s normally out in the Wildspire Wastes but she’s the most experienced Anjanath Hunter we have out here. Well,” He added as an afterthought, “Of the ones still able to lift their swords.”

“Alright,” Said the fat man who had spoken earlier. “We will send a message to Yang and recall her. Until she and Jin get here Kilmitt and Trelmasy will finish their preparations and supplement their supplies with items gathered in the field. As promised, as reward for the completion of your first mission you have our permission to visit the forgemaster for better weaponry and armour. I suggest you pay him a visit and check out the Cafeteria while you’re at it.” His tummy rumbled as he spoke and he patted it lovingly. “It’s almost time for dinner!”

The two recruits nodded and were about to set off, but before the General could dismiss them Quistis asked, “Sorry, but what’s ‘Trelmasy’?”

“Your team name.” The Professor answered. “Trepe and Almasy taken together. Your associates for this hunt have similar monikers, Kinneas and Tilmitt, Jin and Jin, Yang and Yang.”

“Is that all?” General Caraway asked. Quistis nodded. “Dismissed!”

“Trelmasy…” Seifer muttered as they left the Command Centre and went in the direction of the forge. “Trelmasy…”

Quistis rolled her eyes as he repeated it. He didn’t stop repeating it until they’d reached the forge level and she turned on him to shut him up. “Are you quite finished? It’s just a team name, you don’t need to try and dissect it or read into it!”

He frowned, “I’m not dissecting it, I’m testing it.”

“Testing it for what?”

“Durability. It sounds bloody awful.” He wrinkled his nose. “At least if it were something like Kilmitt or Jin it sounds dangerous, or powerful. Trelmasy literally just sounds like two words that have been slammed together.”

“Mm, much like we were.” Quistis agreed, unconcerned, and turned back to the forge, essentially a massive boiling pot with myriad chimneys and pipes coming off it, smoke and heat pouring from every orifice. A wooden awning sheltered the walkway that ran around its edge and beneath this sat an equipment trunk like those in the barracks and a notice board, bristling with flyers and Hunt requests from the inhabitants of Astera and the Research Commission.

Seifer was very interested in the forge, so Quistis left him to it, deciding instead to do as the fat commander had suggested and compile her supplies. There was plenty for a handler to do before a hunt and, not knowing when Yang and Jin would return from their missions, Quistis meant to complete it all in record time. With this in mind she trotted off towards the Research Commission and the stacks of books she had seen earlier.


	4. Chapter 4

The metallic boom of a detonating shell ricochet around the towers of mineral deposit that lined the coast in clusters and echoed through the shallow rock pools that sat serene among the stacks. Flora and fauna shuddered on their fixtures as displaced air buffeted them about and curious shepard hares and scavenging beetles peered out from their homes to see what all the fuss was about.

In the southern region of the ancient forest, on a rocky plain where the fresh water from the distant mountains converged in slow moving streams and collected in shallow pools before flowing into the sea, several Kestodon lay dead. Seifer cleaned off his gunlance on one of the beasts’ hides and then stuck it point first into the rock. Some meters away Quistis was collecting flowferns - a type of bright blue fern with an inclination towards the element of water. It had been 2 days already since their discovery of the Anjanath and their quest for supplies had yielded some interesting, but largely useless crop. Seifer’s gunlance relied on shells shipped in from the old world and wasn’t really capable at this point of elemental attacks, so the ingredients that Quistis was so diligently collecting served no purpose in their team. When he had pointed this out to her she had replied, somewhat huffily, that if he could find no use for them she would give them to the other teams. Kilmitt was a blowgun based team and would no doubt be grateful of the flowfern as they could turn it into water elemented ammunition. There was, unfortunately, no ice elemented wildlife on the coast, so they would not be able to extort that area of Anjanath weakness. For Seifer’s part, he had decided to prepare by upgrading some of his armour and weaponry. His old world gear was perfectly serviceable in normal conditions, but after a chat with the forgemaster it became apparent that the familiar supple leather of his much loved armour would offer little to no protection against the scorching flames of the Anjanath. He would have to get himself some new gear. He had spent a little time browsing the forgemaster’s wares, but nothing stood out, so the forgemaster had struck a deal with the hapless Hunter. If he obtained the materials, then the forge would craft him the best armour that money could buy.

So here they were, Quistis collecting useless little bits of plant, and him, harvesting his kills for monster components and digging out any bits of suitable material that could reasonably be expected to be crafted into armour. Seifer had before him two male Kestodon and three females. From the females he collected scales, slipping his hunting knife underneath the skin at the base of their skulls and then ripping off the hard strip of thick scales that ran upright along the tops of their spines, all the way to the clubbed tips of their tails. He separated the club as well with a hard chop between the second and third last vertebrae and dumped the lot in a pile in one of the little rivers that flowed a small distance away. From the males, he intended on salvaging almost everything. The massive bipedal dinosaurs had very thick hide which could be cured and turned into armour, and their beaks - if they could be separated from the rest of the skull - made excellent tips for lances and arrowheads, but the most valuable component of the male Kestodon was the sold bone mantle that adorned their heads like great horny crowns. Roughly 8 inches thick and totally solid it could be carved into any one of many different pieces of armour. Seifer planned on turning his into pauldrons. He spent some time dissecting his way through the flesh behind the mantle, all the way down to the spine, and decided simply to sever their heads from their necks completely as he couldn’t think of any way of separating the skulls from their crowns out here in the wild.

Poking a hole through the thin piece of bone that separated their nasal canals, he strung their heads together with a length of wire and tried hauling them up onto his back. He failed miserably of course because each one was almost as big as he was and to lift them both was, naturally, impossible. Puffing with exertion he staggered over to where he had thrown the produce from the females and dragged the male’s heads into the water. He collapsed on the ground next to the stream just as Quistis came over to see how he was getting on.

“You look like you’re struggling.” She said blandly.

“You try lifting one.” He snipped. Poxy weakling, poking fun at him for not being able to lift something two times his own weight. She gave the severed heads a distasteful look.

“Do we really need to take the whole head back?”

“Unless you can find some way of separating the crowns, yes.”

“Can’t you chop it off with your lance?”

“The lance is a stabbing and slashing weapon, it’s not for hacking with.” He said dryly. Sure her record was a sparkling array of qualifications ranging from Alchemical Science to Zoological Studies and everything in between, but there were certain areas in which her knowledge was definitely lacking and the comparison was stark. Not to mention irritating.

“Then get an axe.” She said, beginning to inspect the strips of scale that lay in a tangle, the running water having washed what little blood there had been away and leaving them to resemble giant white worms.

“From where?”

“From your pack. Or do you mean to tell me you came out here unprepared to process your kills?”

“Oh shut up, Trepe. All you’ve done it pick fucking flowers while I’ve been doing all the really hard work. You’re in no position to be bitching at me about what I did and didn’t bring, or how useful any of this is!”

“These ‘flowers’ as you put it will be invaluable to our colleagues when it comes to bringing down that Anjanath! Much more useful than a load of severed heads! You better not give yourself a bad back with all this.” She gave one of the heads a kick.

He growled in indignation at the suggestion that a couple of monster heads were enough to give him a bad back, but before he could conjure up a retort to save his reputation, a deafening roar broke the air around them. Alarmed, Seifer whipped around in his position on the floor to face the direction of the noise, only to find, to his abject horror, that one of the herd of Kestodon had survived. He didn’t know where it had been or what it had been doing so far from it’s herd, but it had evidently just now returned and was enraged to find that its family had been killed and their heads gathered in a pile between the Hunter and his Handler. Giving another furious roar the beast pawed the earth with its feet and lowered its head for a charge, horned crowd pointing forward like a jousting lance.

His lance! Panic swept through him as Seifer realised that he didn’t have his lance! He had left it by the harvested bodies of the dead Kestodon, point still stuck in the ground a good 20 meters away from where he sat. Adrenaline rushed through his body as Seifer lunged forward, leaping over the Kestodon heads and running for his weapon. With his shield he might have stood a chance, but that had been left at the camp and now he was totally unarmed. They didn’t have a hope in hell like this, even against a lesser monster like a Kestodon. Especially an angry one.

Reaching his weapon he grabbed it by the handle, wrenched it out of the rock, and turned to look back at the charging beast that was making a straight line for Quistis and the heads. Unaccustomed to combat, she had not had the instincts necessary to galvanise her into immediate action and now the angry herbivor was nearly upon her.

“QUISTIS!” Seifer yelled, breaking into a run. His shout seemed to break her from whatever fear-fueled stupor she had been in and quick as a flash her whip was in her hand. With an expert flick of the wrist she sent the barbed end of it straight into the eyeball of the attacking monster, but while it roared in pain and tossed its head, it was not enough to stop its gallop and it crashed into her a moment later, tossing her into the air like a ragdoll.

Seifer launched himself into the air with a mighty leap and plunged his lance into the Kestodon’s side like a spear. The force of the blow staggered the skewered creature, who let out a high-pitched shriek of pain and toppled over sideways. Seifer mounted his lance and drove it further into the writhing monster’s flesh. When metal touched rock he pulled the trigger and, having nowhere really for the explosion to go, it blew out through the belly of the beast, spraying blood and chunks of stone and entrail in a thick, steaming streak across the rock.

A few meters away Quistis lay motionless. He hurried over. She was on her back, limbs splayed out, a little puddle of blood growing slowly around her head.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Seifer swore, popping open the collar of Quistis’ shirt and pressing a couple of shaking fingers just underneath her jaw. “Please don’t be dead!”

Her pulse fluttered weakly under his fingertips and relief flooded through him. It wasn’t too late. Patting himself down he fished out the mega potion he’d taken from her earlier but hadn’t had to use. Gently, tentatively, trying his best not to bobble her about, he slid a hand under her neck and tilted her head every so slightly so that it wouldn’t drown her when he poured some of the potion into her mouth. She coughed reflexively and then swallowed. He poured a little more and she swallowed again. He shuffled a little closer to her on his knees and continued to pour the mixture into her mouth bit by bit until the bottle was empty. She was breathing heavily by this time and when he felt for her pulse again it was encouragingly strong. Now satisfied that she wasn’t about to croak at any moment, he set about assessing the true extent of her injuries.

She had evidently raised her arms in front of her for protection before the Kestodon hit her and her forearms were already coming up black and blue. They began to yellow before Seifer’s eyes as the mega potion did its work, but he doubted she would be using her wrists again for a while. Which would be a bitch if the supply of potions she had made for him ran out before the Anjanath fight. She had some light bruising on her left hip and down the side of her thigh, but the main casualty from her run-in with the beast was the back of her head, which had met the floor first. Her clip had flown off at some point in the impact and now her loose blonde hair was soaked orange with fresh blood. Her skull felt like it was intact - or at least it didn’t feel squishy, which Seifer was immensely relieved to be able to say - and from a preliminary inspection with only his fingers it seemed that all this blood loss was the product of a few little gashes in her scalp. He found another bottle of megapotion in one of Quistis’ skirt pockets and popped the lid off. Then he got an idea.

Moving around so her head was between his knees, he put the potion aside and took a hold of one shoulder and the base of her skull. Carefully he sat her up and shuffled forwards so that she could lean on his chest. Searching about for something which would serve as a suitable bandage he settled for tearing one of the sleeves from Quistis’ bilaud and soaked it in the megapotion before holding it to the back of her head. He repeated this soaking process a couple of times before Quistis began to stir.

She groaned and shifted a trembling arm, trying to raise her hand to touch her head. “Sit still,” Seifer whispered, careful not to be too loud. She made a blathering noise, which he interpreted to be ‘what happened’, so explained. “You took a hit from the Kestodon and smacked your head. You’ve been out cold for a while.”

She moaned in understanding - or pain, he couldn’t tell - and tried to turn her head, but only succeeded in making herself sick. Waves of guilt rose up over Seifer to replace the fear he’d felt only minutes ago and he held her under the chin for support as she draped forward, a line of bile hanging from her mouth. He scraped her hair back out of her face with his other hand. She looked like shit. He thought about how stupid he was to have left his weapon so far out of reach and then for having left her behind in the path of danger when he ran to fetch it and cursed himself. She coughed weakly and spat the last dregs of bile from her mouth. He set his mouth in a grim line. He was tough, he had armour and trained reflexes and the skills and power enough to withstand a head on collision with a raging monster. Even just in terms of the protection offered by muscle mass he was a hell of a lot better off than she was. She hadn’t really stood a chance. He hadn’t really thought before about how delicate she was - she hardly seemed like it the way she was bossing him about and giving him what-for - but now her blood was on his hands and there wasn’t anyone else to blame for the situation besides himself.

Once he was sure she was done vomiting he eased her back onto his chest and let her head loll. He picked up the remains of the potion he had been applying to her wound and held it in front of her mouth.

“Here,” He said, “Drink the rest of this.”

“But… it’s got blood in it.” She voiced her disapproval quietly.

“It’s your blood. Please just drink it, it will help.”

Reluctantly she drank it and he watched her tongue dart out to clean the drips from her lips. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked hopefully.

“Pain.” She replied, holding up a shaking hand by way of explanation and flexing the fingers, the muscles in her arms reeling from the crushing blow they had received.

He murmured his understanding and looked around at the bodies that lay about them and the landscape on either side. There was a lot of blood on the air now and it wouldn’t be too long before a predator of some description came to see what was going on and, while Seifer wasn’t adverse to fighting them off, he didn’t want to risk exposing the vulnerable handler to further hurt.

He laid her carefully back down and went to collect his lance, strapping it securely to his back before returning to pick up Quistis. He took a hold under her shoulders and knees, picking her up and arranging her so that her head was upright and lying on his shoulder. He cast an eye over the monster debris that lay about them. Fuck his kills, he would come back for those later if he still had the time. His priority now was to get his handler safely back to base. He only hoped that this little accident hadn’t ruined their chances of being included in the Anjanath hunt.  
_____________________________________________________________________

“Hmmm… Hmmmmmmmmmm… Mhmm…. Hmmmm…”

“Well?”

“Hmmm… I’d say you’re lucky.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. The moment Seifer had got his feet back on the deck in Astera he made a beeline for the infirmary, his precious cargo not having stirred since lift off on the floodplain three hours ago. The infirmary was run by the Professor, Professor Kadowaki he now knew she was called, and she had been horrified to see him. He had spared her the gory details of what had really happened, going only so far as to far that he had had a lapse in concentration out in the field and Quistis had gotten hurt because of it. Unimpressed, Professor Kadowaki had nevertheless instructed Seifer to a bed and was now stood on a stool at Quistis’ bedside, examining her under a magnifying glass by candle-light. Nimble fingers prodded at the closing fissures in the barely-conscious handler’s scalp and moved deftly over the rest of her skull, around her neck and over the collar bones checking for breaks or fractures. She turned Quistis’ forearms over in her hands and tutted at the patchwork array of bruising, shaking her head.

Seifer stood on the other side of Quistis’ bed, arms folded but eyes concerned. Kadowaki regarded him too, observing the guilty expression, the blood on his hands and armour, the shiny residue left by the megapotion when it dried and the gore that otherwise coated the rest of his body and legs. Whatever had happened it was a lot more than a simple stroll in the woods.

“Are you injured?” She asked. He shook his head.

“Just her.”

“These injuries have been looked at.”

“I gave her a couple of mega potions, and tried dabbing some on her wounds.”

“Direct application?”

“Yeah, her potions are a lot higher quality that the usual shit and I saw a guy pouring a bottle directly into a mortal wound one time in the old world. The hunter lived on that occasion, so I figured her potions ought to do the same thing. It was worth a shot at least.”

“So… Did you consider that this might also be a mortal wound?”

“...”

She tutted again and hopped off the stool, trotting over to a large bookshelf covered in phials and bottles, rolls of bandage and pots of different coloured powders and sludge, each labeled with a spidery scrawl to denote their contents. A ladder was attached to a rail that ran along the top and bottom of the bookshelf and she moved this to where she wanted, clambering up it like a squirrel up a tree. After a little ferreting about she returned with a roll of bandages, a compress and a number of bottles.

“Hold these.” She said, hopping back up onto her stool and giving three red bottles to Seifer. He cupped his hands around them and waited. Kadowaki poured a couple of bottles of substance into the compress and held this to the back of Quistis’ skull, winding the bandage around the girl’s head with practised ease. When this was done she took the bottles from Seifer and emptied them unceremoniously into Quistis’ mouth. She sputtered and coughed, but swallowed. And then grimaced. Whatever it was was not pleasant. But the colour returned to her face almost immediately and her eyes fluttered open. Puffing his cheeks out, Seifer breathed a sigh of relief.

He hadn’t totally broken her. Thank Hyne.

His reprieve was short-lived however because Kadowaki beckoned him over to the far corner of the room, far enough away that Quistis wouldn’t be able to listen to their conversation.

“I’m not even going to begin to press you for details on what happened out there,” the little Professor said, hands on her hips, “But I will tell you this. Your handler is not a buffer and should not be treated like one. You might be capable of surviving a few knocks, but she absolutely is not and any more of that-” She pointed a finger at the groaning girl on the bed who was gingerly fingering her bandage, “And you’ll bringing her back in a bag. You won’t be the first hunter to have lost their handler, but believe you me when I tell you it will ruin you for life.”

He sighed and averted his eyes from the Professor’s steely gaze, choosing instead to look at his bloodied hands.

She continued, a little softer in the face of his silent apology. “You both have heart, and fortitude, and I have no doubt that she was just as prepared to put herself in the middle of it as you were, but try to be a little more selective about where you let her go.”

“Let her?” He exclaimed, and then whispered when Quistis groaned at the elevated volume, “It’s not a case of me ‘letting her’ go anywhere - she’s like a will unto her own - just does whatever she wants, goes wherever she likes, bossing me about like…”

He trailed off when the kindly Professor patted his arm gently. “I know, I know. Intelligent women always have a hard time letting others take charge - and I speak from experience. I don’t expect you to try and control her - that will only end in an argument - but just… bear in mind that she doesn’t have the same kind of hazard awareness that you do and it is up to you to keep you both safe, even if that means forcing her to do something she doesn’t like and stay in the camp while you go out to hunt.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” He asked, feeling irritation creeping up again. All well and good for this pip-squeak to say things like ‘make her stay in the camp’ - she wasn’t the one getting an earful the second they set foot outside the settlement gates!

“You’re a smart lad,” The Professor said, unhelpfully, “You’ll work it out. Now, she’s not to get out of bed for the next 24 hours at least, keep her well watered and feed her something that doesn’t require much chewing. She should take one of these with each meal-” A phial of green pills was pressed into Seifer’s hand, “-and she is not to leave Astera until I have personally signed her off as being fit for duty.”

“How long will that take?” He asked nervously. “The Anjanath hunt is only going to be a few days away.”

“Hmm…” the Professor put a finger to her chin to mime thinking - in the same way that Quistis had, but far less genuine - before saying cheerfully, “That depends on how attentive a carer you are, doesn’t it.”

He blinked, tried to formulate a retort and then gave up as the Professor patted his hand again and then trotted out of the room without another word. Quistis was watching him from the bed, looking doe-eyed and fragile. Seifer slunk over to her bedside and pulled up a chair.

“You look like shit.” She whispered.

He laughed at that. “Maybe, but you should have seen the other guy.”

She hummed amusement, then sucked in a breath and touched her forehead, grimacing. Seifer toyed with the idea of doing something helpful to alleviate the pain, but didn’t really know what he should be doing, so just sat and looked awkward instead.

“Did you get your heads?” She asked after a while.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Wh-?!” He looked at her aghast. “What do you mean, ‘why not’?! You were injured, that’s why not!”

“But you could have gone back for them, couldn’t you?”

“When?!”

“When you were done with me…”

“Done with-?!” Anger flared in his chest in an instant and whatever feelings of guilt or fluffiness he might have been feeling about her injuries dissipated like smoke on the wind. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again when he couldn’t find the words. When he was ‘done’ with her? She made it sound so… So blase, as if he was the type of person to eschew her personal safety for the sake of a couple of monster heads. Like he would treat her life and injuries so lightly… As if he might as well just throw her away once she’d sustained even the slightest scratch. As if she truly believed that he was the type of person to do such a thing.

By the time he had formulated an intelligent response he was stood up and breathing hard through his nostrils. He fixed her with a blistering glare, “I might not be the nicest guy on the block, Trepe,” She flinched under the ferocity of his reaction, “but I have enough common fucking decency to put your life above a couple of stupid fucking monsters.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out into the fading light.


	5. Chapter 5

For three days after her run-in with the Kestodon Quistis had been confined to her hammock, guarded day and night by the cantankerous Seifer. She wasn’t convinced that enforced bed rest was totally necessary, but Seifer was having none of it and testily reminded her about the dangers of underestimating the severity of a head wound. Quistis was torn. On the one hand she knew that she had offended him somehow in the infirmary, there was no mistaking the light of rage that had blazed in his eyes that night, but on the other, she didn’t have any idea what it was she could have said that had elicited such a reaction. And so, for that reason alone, she felt bitter. Of course, the fact that all she had seen for the past three days were water, soup, mashed potato and Seifer’s immoveable glower didn’t help. So, by the time the Yang Team rolled into Astera on day number 5, towing a macerated skull behind them, Quistis was well and truly sick to the back teeth with the whole situation.

Team Yang’s arrival sent a shiver of commotion through Astera, primarily through the Research Commission who were very pleased to see the specimen they had brought back and they wheeled it away to study it with much excitement. Loud feminine laughter could be heard even in Quistis’ unconventional jail and she swung her hammock about, trying to get a better view of the gap between the longboat curtain and the wall. Seifer, who had been lounging in his own hammock and reading the same reports on the martial tactics of the Anjanath that he had been pouring over since the incident with the Kestodon, put a foot out to halt her movements. Her bottom crashed into his foot and she nearly toppled from her hammock. Cursing, Seifer got up and rearranged a struggling Quistis back into her hammock, tucking her blankets in around her feet and arms like a straight jacket until eventually all she could do was twist and swear at him.

“Haven’t you had enough?!” She cried, the end of her metaphorical tether clutched tightly in her hands. “This is fucking ludicrous, man!”

“You will stay in your bed until Professor Kadowaki signs you off as being fit for duty.” Came the stern, dispassionate reply.

“Then take me to Professor Kadowaki!” She squirmed, trying to loosen the blankets. “I’m as fit for duty as I will ever be!”

“You won’t be fit for duty until she says that you are.”

“But if I never see her then how is she meant to be able to tell if I’m fit for duty or not?!”

“She’ll come and see you when she’s ready.”

“But I’m ready!” 

He had returned to his spot with his reports and was ignoring her. Quistis craned her neck to see out of the longboat entrance. A fortuitous gust of wind blew at that moment, pushing the sail aside and giving her a perfect view of the Forward Command Centre and the crowd of hunters who gathered around it.

Quistis licked her lips. “Almasy.” He ignored her. She tried again. “Almasy, look. There’s a group of hunters standing around the Command Centre. Go and see if it’s the Anjanath party.”

He looked up at this. Quistis cheered internally. At last, a bite! When he made no moves to stand up however she continued. “You must have heard the commotion outside a minute ago - I’m willing to bed you any money that that was Team Yang and if it was then we need to be out there looking fit and healthy and ready to go.”

“You,” He looked at her pointedly, “Are insane and are not ‘fit and healthy’.”

Her jaw dropped. “I am not ‘insane’.”

“You’ve done nothing but badger me all week about wanting to get up and walk around and leave the settlement - Frankly I think that little knock on the head did more damage to you than meets the eye.”

In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“If I am going a little crazy it’s because you’ve kept me cooped up in this hut for a week with nothing to do and no one to talk to! I’m getting bored out of my tree! If you were to let me actually do something once in a while then perhaps I wouldn’t come across quite so…”

“Unhinged?”

“...Yes.” She smiled. “Unhinged.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say that her smiling at him like that wasn’t helping to change his mind. He had to concede though, now that she mentioned it, that there was an awful din coming from outside and it sounded an awful lot like the Yang Team had just rolled into town. Getting up, he put his reports on Quistis’ blanketed tummy and went to the barrack entrance to pull back the curtain. Quistis craned her neck again to get another look.

There were three hunt pairs stood by the Command Centre, three men and three women. Interestingly enough it seemed that it was the women rather than the men who were the hunters in this instance, standing together with weapons on their backs. With a look over his shoulder and an order to Quistis to ‘stay put’, Seifer walked over to find out what was happening.

General Caraway addressed him on his approach. “Almasy, these are your fellow hunt pairs; Yang, Jin and Kilmitt.” The pairs nodded their greetings as the General continued. “As you will all know, recently our Northernmost camp in the Ancient Forest has been destroyed. We have reason to believe that this is the work of an Anjanath - you can thank Almasy here for that information. Your objective for this hunt is to capture or kill that Anjanath. We haven’t had any other reports of Anjanath in the area so it shouldn’t be hard to identify your mark.” He looked at the pairs individually before his gaze fell to Seifer. “Work to your teammate’s advantages and do not let your guard down. Failure on this is not an option. Is that clear?”

“Yessir.” They said.

“Good.” The General addressed Seifer directly. “How’s your handler?”

“Recovering.”

“Good. Is she going to be ready to hunt?”

“That depends on the Professor’s assessment.”

The General’s eyes narrowed, fixing Seifer a glare which he turned in equal force. “I’m not interested in the Professor’s assessment, Hunter. I’m asking you. Is she going to be ready to hunt?”

Gritting his teeth to hold back the mingle of anger and embarrassment that rose in his chest, Seifer shook his head. “She’s not coming.”

The General gave a disgusted snort and pointed a finger at Seifer’s chest. “You better sort your shit out boy, before I decide I made a mistake with you. DISMISSED!”

The hunt pairs left, walking off to make their final preparations before they departed on the hunt, teams Kilmitt and Yang shooting interested glances in Seifer’s direction as they left. Team Jin on the other hand was much more openly curious. Team Jin was comprised of a short, silver haired archer with a patch over one eye and a nasty looking scar around her throat, and a veritable brick shithouse of a man with broad shoulders, shaggy black hair and the biggest grin Seifer had ever seen being pulled for absolutely no reason. They were both decked out in jet black armour embellished with blood read plates fashioned into the shape of flames and adorned at the cuffs and collars with tufts of downy-looking grey fur. Odogaron armour - clearly they were quite high rank.

They approached him without concern as he was walking back towards the barracks to check on his reluctant patient and introduced themselves. The handler landed a hearty clap on Seifer’s shoulder that almost had him on the deck. “Hey there man! So you’re the one who found the Anjanath! My name’s Raijin, and this is Fuujin! It’s good to meetcha, ya know!”

Rolling his tingling shoulder, Seifer nodded in vague agreement. Yeah. Nice to meet you. “Likewise.”

Fuujin nodded as well, then wasting no further time in small talk, got right to the elephant in the room. “HANDLER?” She barked, her scarred throat and subsequently ruined voicebox making the word into a harsh scratch, like sand in a record player.

“She’s injured.” Seifer explained.

“RESPONSIBLE?”

“Me.” He admitted, shamefaced. There was no point in trying to hide it, he was the only one going without a handler and they would all find out eventually.

But, contrary to the frosty reception he thought he would get, Fuujin just shrugged. “HAPPENS.” She said.

“Yeah man,” Raijin agreed jovially, “Shit happens sometimes, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, ya know? Just look after her and when she’s ready, try again.”

“LEARN.”

“Yeah, there’s always something to be learnt from stuff like this.”

Seifer raised an eyebrow at the somewhat wishy-washy use of the word ‘stuff’, “Mistakes you mean.”

“I guess…” Raijin trailed off, rubbing the back of his head, his perpetual cheer temporarily dampened by Seifer’s frankness.

“If you’re lucky enough that they’re the kind you walk away from.” Seifer continued.

“But, you did, didn’t you?” Raijin countered, to which the blonde hunter could only glower. Raijin held up his hands and said diplomatically “Hey man, I’m just trying to help you, ya know, lend a hand, ya know. It’s just… Handlers get hurt all the time! I don’t think there’s a single handler we know who’s come off without a single scratch…”

Fuujin nodded her silent agreement, leading the way through the marketplace, passed the barracks - which Seifer was sorely tempted to check, but the conversation was just too interesting for him to bare stopping - and up to the staircase that lead to the cafeteria level. The boys followed behind her side by side. Raijin was still talking. “It kinda comes with the territory, ya know! I mean, she’d be kinda stupid to think she could go out hunting monsters and not get hurt at least some of the time!”

Seifer gave a sceptical huff, “Do you get hurt every time?”

“Well no…” The big man had to admit, “But we’ve been doing this a while now, so I’m pretty good at figuring out what’s dangero- OW!” A lightning quick heelkick from Fuujin stowed whatever it was Raijin was about to say and he hopped about, clutching the shin that had received the punishment. Seifer stared between the two Jins with a mix of surprise and apprehension. She kicked like a horse! After a moment, Raijin righted himself and the hobbled onwards. He continued, “Ok, well, I can tell when things are getting too hairy for me, and I listen to Fuu. Your handler’s probably just a bit green, ya know? Like wood, she’s gotta mature.”

“DEVELOP.”

“Yeah, man. Like Fuu says, she’s just gotta develop.”

Seifer wasn’t sure about that. If she developed any more her brain would start to pop out the top of her head. “She’s pretty intelligent already, and she already knows the rule book inside and out.”

Fuujin shook her head as they stepped up onto the cafeteria level. “TEAM.”

“Yeah, as a team. You guys have to develop together, learn to work together, listen to each other, communicate and stuff.”

Fuujin smiled and gave Seifer’s arm an encouraging pat, “WORK OUT.”

Raijin landed a similar, heavier pat on Seifer’s opposite shoulder. “Yeah, don’t sweat it, man. It’ll all work out, ya know.”

They joined the back of the queue for dinner and Raijin regaled them all with tales of Team Jin’s hairiest and funniest hunts - with the odd interjection from Fuujin to keep the story from getting too out of hand - and Seifer decided that these two were actually alright.

_____

“Hey there girly, you alright?”

Quistis looked up at the address, to see a bone clad woman approaching her. Fully expecting Seifer to return after the meeting and present himself to be grilled, Quistis had settled for occupying herself with the reports he had left, now that she had her arms free. So she was surprised to find her old mate and drinking buddy Xu Yang coming towards her. Her eyes lit up as she recognised her and she tore the blanket from the rest of her body to leap out of bed. Seeing her intention, Xu leapt forward to put a restraining hand on the handler’s front and shove her back into the hammock.

Quistis flailed, “No, not you too! Xu! I’m fine! Please let me up, I’ve been trapped in this bed all week with that hideous doberman growling overhead, you don’t need to do this!”

Xu raised an eyebrow, but released the pressure slightly. “Hideous doberman?”

“Urgh, Almasy.” Quistis clarified, sitting up again and removing Xu’s slackening arm before hopping out of the hammock. She could have danced for joy when her feet touched the ground, but wanted too badly to speak to her friend, whom she had not seen since the 5th Fleet’s expedition set off some 4 years previous. She threw her arms around Xu in a hug. “He’s been guarding me like some sort of elder dragon, throwing a fit every time I try to get up and feeding me nothing but gruel and savaged potatoes.”

“Yeah, he did mention that you were recovering from something…”

“I was attacked by an angry Kestodon last week and he’s confined me to bedrest ever since.” Quistis explained, exasperated.

“Attacked?!” Xu looked appalled and cupped her friend’s cheeks, swiping her thumbs over them with a worried expression, “What do you mean? How badly are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad,” Quistis said, placing her hands over Xu’s. She appreciated the concern but she really didn’t need to worry. Xu had always behaved like an older sister towards Quistis, who was a good 10 years younger than her, and now the waves of affection were pouring from the hunter like water. “We were out hunting Kestodon and thought we’d finished when another one appeared and attacked us. I tried to slow it down with my whip but.. I got hit.”

“It charged you!? Where was your hunter?!”

“He was getting his weapon…”

“WHAT?! He left you there alone?!”

“N-no,” Xu’s expression was turning from concerned to outraged and Quistis was now beginning to worry for Seifer’s safety. If he got on Xu’s bad side he wouldn’t know what hit him. He’d be dead and buried before anyone else even realised he was missing. “He was with me, he just left his weapon a little way away and had to get it. The Kestodon just… Reached me before he did…”

A ‘reh’ of anger tore from Xu’s throat and Quistis could have sworn she saw her friend’s eyes flash red. She tightened her grip on her hands before she could pull away to go and murder Almasy for not taking care of his handler. “Xu,” Quistis said, trying to get the situation back under control, “He saved my life. And he left his kill behind just to carry me back to base. He hasn’t left my side for a moment, do not kill him!” She turned imploringly to the handsome handler who hovered at Xu’s back. “Nida, say something!”

Nida shrugged. What was there to say? He had been with Xu for years and knew her temper. Once she decided she hated someone that was it and there was no changing her mind. An angry Xu was as bad as an angry Anjanath - which was part of the reason she was so efficient at exterminating them.

“Did he at least apologise to you?” Xu asked at last, voice shaky with the effort of controlling her temper.

Cautiously, Quistis shook her head, making her friend growl in frustration and stamp a foot on the floor. “I don’t remember,” She explained. “I remember waking up on the plain and vomiting on him-” Xu snickered “-But I don’t remember anything after that, just the infirmary. We did talk a little bit then, but I think I upset him and he’s been crabby every since.”

“Did you say you’ve been in bed all week?” Quistis nodded. Xu raised her eyebrow. “So he’s been a dick to you for an entire week because he had to leave his kills behind?”

Unsure of what to say, Quistis shrugged. It wasn’t quite like that, he wasn’t angry with her for making him leave his kills behind - if anything it was the opposite, but there didn’t seem to be any point in explaining that to Xu, who had drifted off from the present and was stood, confined as she was, staring over Quistis’ shoulder and vibrating with rage. Behind her, Nida smiled and offered a hand to Quistis, who shook it.

“It’s good to see you’re recovering,” He said.

Quistis smiled back, “Thank you, I was pretty much done recovering three days ago, but just haven’t been allowed to show it. How are you two? Caraway says you guys are the Anjanath experts around here these days.”

“We’re pretty good. And yeah, Anjanath are cool - tough and vicious to the last. Makes for a good hunt.”

“Mmm,” Xu murmured, but said no more. She was chewing her lips and was most likely imagining a cruel and painful punishment to enact on Almasy for having hurt her dear friend.

Nida continued, “I wouldn’t say we’re expects, but there’s definitely a knack for it.”

“I’d be interested to hear anything you can tell me about them,” Quistis said, making Nida smile. Older handlers were a wealth of anatomical monster knowledge, fighting styles, weaknesses, travel patterns and many many other useful bits of information and were often sort out on the eve of big hunts by their younger compatriots. It was something of an honour to be singled out as a mentor and even the docile Nida was not immune to its charms. “I’ve been reading over a few reports from previous hunts - probably a few of yours - but there’s no substitute for a direct source.”

Grinning from the flattery, Nida held up his hands, “Ok, ok. Let’s go to the cafeteria and get some real food and then we can talk monsters.”

At the mention of food Xu zoned back in and nodded, “Yeah… Food. That sounds good.”

They trotted off in the direction of the Cafeteria.

The Cafeteria was a circular affair, one side of it being completely taken up with an impressive set of towering ovens and cook-pots and a massive meat oven and spit occupying the main stage. Tables and chairs occupied the remaining half circle of space on the deck. Kitchen palicos manned the ovens and stirred the pots with spoons twice their height in length while servers scampered here and there carrying trays laden with steaming plates of food and flagons of foaming ale. Hunt pairs sat about laughing and playing triple triad and a long line of potential patrons stood at the bar, waiting to order.

Seifer, Raijin and Fuujin occupied a table near the back of the room, a roasted lamb’s leg, skewers of meat and bowls of soup, steamed vegetables and a massive cheese and potato bake sitting between them. They had been swapping tales of daring-do and Seifer was pleased to find that they were by no means saints and seemed to have a habit for getting into the same sort of trouble that he did. They were getting along famously by the time a hush fell over the otherwise noisy Cafeteria and caught Seifer’s attention. A group of three had joined the line for food and a flash of yellow hair had Seifer out of his seat before he’d even paused for thought. Quistis was out of bed and roaming about. Angry, he stormed over to her.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded. “You’re meant to be in bed.”

“I am fine, Seifer,” She replied, exasperated. She stamped her feet to illustrate her point. “See? Fine.”

“You’re not fine until you’ve been signed off-”

“Not this again… I’m fine, you don’t need to smother me, I can walk to the cafeteria without breaking my neck for Hyne’s sake!”

Seifer growled, about to say he begged to differ, but a rising chill in the air had his nerves on edge. He looked about - there shouldn’t have been anything dangerous in Astera - the place was heaving with hunters armed to the teeth so even if there was anything loose it wouldn’t be around for long… Eventually he settled on the tall, muscled woman standing behind Quistis, burning a hole in his head. He looked her up and down. She was one of the hunters at the Command Centre earlier, although why she was looking at him with murder in her eyes was anyone’s guess. He nudged his chin in her direction, “The fuck is your problem?”

Wrong move. Her knuckles met his jawline before he’d even had time to blink, whipping his head back and almost knocking him off his feet. The cafeteria gasped as one and Quistis yelped in shock before rounding on her friend, “Xu! What the hell?! I already told you it wasn’t his fault!”

“Then whose fault is it, Q? He’s the hunter, not you, the only person to blame for you getting hurt is him.” She gave Seifer a look that could have blistered steel siding, before turning on her heel with a short bark of ‘Not hungry’. Nida gave Quistis an apologetic look before jogging off after his hunter, who could walk surprisingly quickly when she was angry.

Quistis touched a hand to Seifer’s arm, intending to help, but he shrugged her off violently giving her a hostile look as he thumbed a trickle of blood from his lip. He licked the rest away and chucked his head in the direction of Xu’s departure, “Well,” He said frostily, “She’s a charmer.” And then stalked off back to his table, where Raijin and Fuujin were both stood up, watching the altercation from afar.

They sat back down when Seifer reached them, flexing his jaw.

“OK?” Fuujin asked.

Seifer nodded, “Fucking Yang. No wonder she’s an Anjanath expert - she practically is one.”

Raijin shrugged, picking up a meat skewer and tearing off a chunk. He spoke with his mouth full. “She’s not so bad really, ya know.”

Seifer pointed at his swelling lip, but Raijin dismissed it with a wave. “Not what I meant. She’s usually pretty sound, she just gets worked up about things when Handlers get hurt, ya know.”

“PERSONAL.”

“Yeah, man. She’s only like that because she almost lost her handler too. They’d just got married, ya know, and went on a hunt in the Wastes and he got attacked by a Diablos, took a horn to the guts and almost died, ya know.”

“Diablos?” Seifer echoed. Diablos were ginormous scaled burrowers with two curling horns atop their heads, and a similar set on their tail, giving it the appearance of a maul. Almost completely blind, they navigated by measuring vibrations in the soil. There was some speculation that they may at some point have been capable of flight, if the wings were anything to go by, but they had never been observed in the air and the masses of excess shoulder muscle usually found in their aerial cousins had atrophied away over generations until they were no more impressive than a kitten’s.

“BLACK.” Fuujin said with a grim look.

“Yeah,” Raijin adopted a similar expression. “The Black Diablos. It's supposedly just a mutation in colour when the females go into heat, but it’s vicious too, ya know. Way worse than the yellow ones. The Black ones actually go looking for hunters to kill… Think it likes the taste.” He shuddered. “Hadn’t seen it for ages though and she let her guard down, didn’t even notice the tremors until it was too late, ya know. She was a wreck for weeks until he recovered, ya know. She’s almost rabid on the hunt now.”

Seifer rubbed his jaw, feeling a little less hostile towards his assailant in light of the new information. At least, it explained a little about why she was so pissed at him and Quistis seemed to know her, so it was likely they were already friends and felt strongly towards each other. Still… “It’s still no excuse for nearly decking a guy…”

“UNDERSTANDING.” Fuujin said with a shrug, tucking back into her meal.

“I doubt it.” Seifer muttered. “The day I reach an understanding with that she-devil is the day I feed myself to a Pukei-pukei.”


End file.
